


Happy Valentine's Day Fanbook

by orphan_account



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:12:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Happy Valentine’s Day turtle fans!! Thank you to all the contributors to this 18+ Fanbook! This fanbook is for adult audiences only. It contains graphic sexual and potentially offensive material. By continuing to view this fanbook, you are agreeing to view this material and that you are of legal age to do so. The content of this fanbook is made by fans for fans. It is unofficial and not-for-profit.





	1. Cover

**Author's Note:**

> There are issues with image display on mobile. I may or may not be able to fix this. The fanbook is best viewed on a computer or tablet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Cover by Shesu94](https://deviantart.com/shesu94)


	2. Index

Cover by Shesu94

  
Chapter Three: The Perfect Gift ... Leonardo/Donatello Comic, Rise of the TMNT by Riuke

Chapter Four: Soft Shell ... Donatello/April Drabble, Rise of the TMNT by Duz

Chapter Five: The Future ... Raphael/Donatello Figures, preSAINW, by Winnychan  

Chapter Six: Peruvian Sunset ... Leonardo/Raphael, FIALT, by Duz  

Chapter Seven: Soft Heart ... Donatello/April Drabble, Rise of the TMNT by Duz

Chapter Eight: I Would Be a Better Fit ... Donatello/Michelangelo, 2012, by Shesu94

Chapter Nine: Wedding Bells ... Leonardo/Raphael, FIALT, by Pointlessquotehere

Chapter Ten: Candlelight ... Leonardo/Raphael, 2007, by Seigakusan

Chapter Eleven: Sunset Years ... Leonardo/Raphael, FIALT, by Pointlessquotehere

Chapter Twelve:  Cowgirl ... Donatello/April, Rise of the TMNT, by Gem

Chapter Thirteen: Gimmie a Hand ... Michelangelo/Donatello, SAINW by Duz

Chapter Fourteen: I’m Your Stupid Valentine ... Leonardo/Raphael, 2012, by Shesu94

 

**Contributors**

  1. [Riuke](https://fandoms-and-regret.tumblr.com/)
  2. [Duz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duz)
  3. [Winnychan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnychan)
  4. [Seigakusan](https://deviantart.com/seigaku-san)
  5. [Gem](https://instagram.com/willistanisha/)
  6. [Shesu94](https://deviantart.com/shesu94)



 

This fanbook is a gift to the fandom for Valentine's Day 2019. The contributors worked tirelessly for free to produce this content. Comments appreciated and please check out their links as well! This is not the place for constructive criticism towards any of the stories or artworks. Thank you and enjoy.


	3. The Perfect Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Comic by Riuke](https://fandoms-and-regret.tumblr.com/)

 


	4. Soft Shell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By Duz

Before she’d met the guys, throwing birdseed into Turtle Pond or a cursory biology lesson was the extent of April’s turtle knowledge. After befriending a brood of mutated, humanoid turtles for a couple of years, her knowledge hadn’t increased that much. Looking up pictures of all the different breeds the guys had declared themselves to be didn’t help. Leo’s stripes looked more like tattoos, Raphael was too sweet to be one of those miniature dinosaurs in her textbook, and who knew if Mikey’s colorful decorations were natural or turtlemade.

Then there was Donnie. Softshell turtles looked unfortunate, to put it kindly. A flat pancake of a turtle with a long boople-snoot and sleepy-lidded crossed eyes. Nothing like her Donatello… except for the eyes when he hadn’t slept enough. And maybe the shell. She hadn’t seen it often. Don didn’t hide it from her, just generally kept it covered most of the time. Sometimes she’d watch him curiously as he worked, wondering what it looked like under his battle shell. Don would turn, face questioning, and she’d quickly busy herself with something else.

What did it look like under there? Feel like? Would she ever know? Even as she and Don started to hesitantly date in her Junior year, his shell remained a mystery.

“D,” she mused aloud, stretched over the infirmary cot as she picked at her trigonometry homework.

Don glanced over, goggles morphing his face insectoid. “Just read the problem, dear, I don’t have time to come over there.”

“I don’t need your help with my math homework, asshole!” She shouted, bristling.

Don shrugged, then turned back to his welding, as though he couldn’t possibly imagine what else April could have wanted from him. Sparks spewed about his face, illuminating the purple streaking his dark green skin. April kept staring, waiting to finish her thought, but Don was back in his private world of brilliance and technology.

“I was just wonderin’…” she said, drawing out the words as she watched Don to see if he would look up. He did not. Lips turning into a frown, April sat up on the bed, crossed her arms over her chest, and blurted out, “when’re we gonna have sex, turtleman?”

 _That_ got Don’s attention. Sputtering, he swiveled from the hunk of twisted metal on his work table, torch still blowing in his gloved hand as he stared open-mouthed at April. She stared right back, lips stuck out obstinately.

“Well?” She demanded, raising an eyebrow.

“Well!” Don responded. His body finally caught up with his brain and he shut off the welding equipment and set it aside, his goggles laid atop the thick gloves. “I did not know you were interested.”

“Whaddya mean, you didn’t know I was interested? I’m a senior, Donnie! An 18-year-old virgin! All my friends wonder why I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You do have a boyfriend.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he murmured. “That’s precisely why I did not think you would be interested.”

April chewed her lip, a rush of coldness swirling in her belly at Don’s downturned eyes and quiet voice. Why had she said that? It had just come out and, at the time, seemed a more normal thing to say than ‘I want to touch your shell. That’s not weird, right?’

“Well, I am. Interested. Course I am.”

Don rose from his chair and crossed the room in a few long strides. Placing an arm on either side of April’s hips, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Hungrily he kissed those pouting lips, hands clamping onto the girl’s waist as he devoured her mouth. She kissed back eagerly, then batted at him, pushing Don back by the plastron.

“Okay, okay! Easy, boy! I didn’t mean right _now._ ”

Don panted, groaned, and hung his head. “When did you mean?”

“I don’t know... I want it to be something special. Like Valentine’s Day or something.”

“Valentine’s Day? Really?”

“Shut up! You want this or not!?”

Don lifted his head again, eyes glittering, and nodded. “Okay, dear. Valentine’s Day it is. Prepare to be wooed.”

 

_To be continued..._


	5. The Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [By Winnychan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnychan)


	6. Peruvian Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By Duz


	7. Soft Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit. By Duz

Since April had mentioned her desire to have sex a few weeks earlier, it had been all Don could think about. Images of flushed skin, the curve of April’s hips, and her full lips filled Don’s mind. He’d lost count of how many times he’d been smacked in the face with a tonfa for daydreaming, how many electrical burns he’d given himself for staring glassy-eyed at nothing as his mind turned naked backflips. He’d promised to woo her, but how the hell was he supposed to do that?

Wood slapped into the side of his head. Stars swan before Don’s eyes as he faceplanted the concrete. Concerned voices shouted distantly. Hands dragged him to his feet and, slowly, his brothers’ faces swam into focus. Raph leaned over him, expression pinched with worry.

“Oh, shoot,” he moaned, “I’m sorry, Donnie! I thought you was watchin’! I didn’t mean t’hit ya that hard!”

“Are you okay, D?” Mikey asked.

Don waved off their concern but placed a hand dramatically to his beak, scrunching his face in mock agony. “Oh no, my beautiful beak! I better sit the rest of this one out, guys.”

Raph and Mikey agreed enthusiastically. Only Leo looked unfooled, as though he knew Don was capable of finishing training but just didn’t want to. It didn’t matter, though. Raph would keep Leo in training and out of Don’s hair... uh, hands.

Striding to his lab, Don quickly punched a few commands in the main console. Like obedient worker bees his robots buzzed, cleaning and polishing everything while Don tried to figure out what he could do to make Valentine’s Day, which happened to be tomorrow, special for April. His experience with the holiday was extremely limited, as were his options. He couldn’t exactly take her to dinner and a movie, nor could he pop by the store for candy, flowers, and an impractically large stuffed animal. Whatever he did would need to be at the lair with what he already had available. As he brainstormed, Don slid into his computer chair and browsed, searching and clicking around for anything involving romance, sex, and/or Valentine’s Day. With each lewd image, every heart-warming story, and the occasional jilted lover rant, an idea began to form...

 

 

It was late afternoon by the time April strolled into the lair. ‘Meet me in the lab <3’ Don’s text had said. Waving at Leo and Raph as they awkwardly avoided looking at one another, April made her way towards the lab. She’d taken an extra long shower that morning, scrubbing and grooming all of her bits so they’d be fresh and presentable for... things. All of this because she’d been too chickenshit to ask to see Don’s shell. She’d agonized over it all night, chatted with Irma and Casey a bit, and finally decided that she was Ready. It was time to pop this cherry.

When April walked into the lab, darkness met her. “Donnie?” She called out, stepping into the blackness.

The door shut behind her as faint rose-colored light filtered up from the baseboards. 70s groove floated from Don’s darkened consoles. A disco ball fell from the ceiling, throwing tiny red hearts all over the room. In the middle of this ludicrous display was Don himself. He swiveled into view on a rotating bed that must have been constructed in the last 24 hours, wearing nothing but his battle shell with a rose clamped between his smirking lips.

“Well hello there,” Don crooned, “Fancy meeting you here, Miss O’Neil.”

It started like carbonation in her gut. No matter how hard she tried, April couldn’t stop it from bubbling up and bursting free. Opening her mouth wide, she laughed, guffawed, and cackled until she was crying, wheezing, bent at the middle and gasping for breath. Don’s hands were on her back, rubbing, leaning over her with concern, but April took one look at his face and the stupid rose caught on his battle shell and broke into fresh hysterics.

“Christ, Donnie!” She howled, rubbing the tears from her cheeks. “What the hell is all this!?”

“It’s-I... uh. Well,” Don paused, cheeks flame red, and April paused too. Guilt overwhelmed her as she looked at Don’s sheepish face. This... _surprise_ must have taken him hours to create, and April had just laughed in his face. It was ridiculous, yeah, but what else could she expect? Don was often over the top, and what did he really know about humans and human holidays anyway?

“Oh, Don,” she said, “I’m sorry for laughing. This was really sweet of you, but I don’t need all’a this.”

"I wanted to make it special for you...” he murmured, looking away as he turned off the disco ball with a small remote control.

“ _You_ make it special, D,” she promised, lifting on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry I made you think you had to do all this.” A kiss to his beak, right between the nostrils. “But we can still... you know.”

Finally, their lips met. Don wrapped his arms around April’s slim waist, holding her body against his plastron. She felt as wonderful to hold as he’d imagined. Her lips just as soft, her skin just as warm. Don flipped off the music but left the pink light, then tossed the remote away behind April’s back. Their lips still locked, he walked backwards towards the bed, bringing April with him. Just before his calves hit the mattress, he swept her into his arms, turned, and laid her amongst the blankets and pillows.

Pink light reflected off her glasses, staining her cheeks red. Or was she blushing? Don wasn’t sure, but he stared in awe for a few seconds, unable to believe this beautiful, smart, wonderful girl wanted to share a bed with a mutant like him.

“C’mere,” she beckoned, holding her hands out. Don was swift to comply. He had nothing to remove, but slowly he unwrapped April like a present. Piece by piece her rosy brown flesh was revealed. Dark nipples stood erect. She pressed her plump thighs together, the triangle of black, fleecy hair stark against her legs. Don swallowed, his hands hovering over her, unsure of where to touch first.

“Donnie,” April interrupted before he could decide. “I want you to get naked too.”

“What? I am naked, April.”

“No, completely naked.”          

“I don’t _wear clothes_ , dear. I’m nak-”

“Your shell,” she said quietly. “I want you to take off your battle shell.”

 _That_ gave Don pause. He stared at April uncertainly, then unfastened his shell and sat it on the floor. Cool air pumping in from the ventilation system (designed and installed by Don himself, of course) breezed over his shell and he shivered, feeling unnaturally exposed. He’d worn the shell for years, taking it off only to sleep, bathe, or change it. This was the first time he’d taken it off for another reason and it felt strange.

“Are you cold?” April asked.

“A little.”

She held out her arms again. “C’mere. Why are you all the way over there?”

Don obeyed, leaning over April so that he could kiss her again and get his mind off his shell. As her hands trailed up his arms, squeezing the muscles lightly, his mind quickly diverted to his tail. It swelled between them, moisture already beginning to condense on the slit as he ran his tongue over April’s teeth. She felt so wonderful and smelled so good, Don almost didn’t notice when her hands slipped up from his shoulders to the top of his shell.

Almost.

Don froze, eyes popping open, and he stared at her. April stared back defiantly, her fingertips brushing purposely over his shell. Her touch was so light and gentle that Don shivered. Her breasts jiggled against his plastron with the movement and he was back to kissing her. One hand stayed at her hip while the other dipped between her legs, probing past the coarse hair to touch her. She moaned and he moaned back, thick fingers working her clit before sliding inside of her. First one, then the other, stretching her as much as he could for what was to come.

His cock dropped from his cloaca. The dark member hung thickly between his legs, pressed to April’s thigh. Heavy pants racked her body and she opened her legs, clinging to Don’s shell as he pushed into her, inch by inch until she could take no more. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her up as he pumped into her, careful not to go too deep. The top of his cock slid against her clit with every thrust and she moaned, wrapping her arms around Don’s shoulders while pushing her face into his neck.

April screamed obscenities in his earhole when she came, her spasming pussy wringing his orgasm out immediately. They fell onto the bed together, sticky and breathless. Her breasts heaved with every exhalation and Don felt a twinge between his legs, but he didn’t have the energy to pursue it. Eventually, they migrated towards one another and fell asleep intertwined, a deep sense of contentment and musky scent of sex permeating the lab.


	8. I Would Be a Better Fit!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Comic by Shesu94](https://deviantart.com/shesu94)

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Wedding Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commissioned artwork from Pointlessquotehere


	10. Candlelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [By Seigakusan](https://deviantart.com/seigaku-san)


	11. Sunset Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Commissioned artwork from Pointlessquotehere


	12. Cowgirl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Explicit [By Gem](https://instagram.com/willistanisha/)

Explicit artwork below!!

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	13. Gimme a Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: gore, general grossness, angst  
> By Duz

Finding a decent table at the end of the world was hard. Everything was blown to smithereens, busted up, or had been chopped into firewood ages ago. For days Mikey had been scouring the old landfills, crawling through the ruins of the upper East Side, even sneaking into Blue Hill and Per Se. He’d finally scored at the last dig he checked out, The River Café. The irony wasn’t lost on Michelangelo–Armageddon was the only reason he could even step foot in the swanky joint. Now he roamed it freely, navigating between the few standing tables and chairs as the ripped tablecloths rustled in the hot breeze.

Though it was only February, it was scorching. It was always hot in the Shredder’s wasteland. It was like someone had left an oven door open. Blistering, putrid air blew in over the river, making everything damp and disgusting. Even Mikey, mostly-reptile though he was, had begun to sweat. Beads of perspiration clung to his mottled skin, collecting in his armpits and crotch. Casey had once said turtle B.O. was unmistakable and boy howdy, was he right. If anything were going to give Mikey’s location away, it was the stink.

Mikey wasn’t one to let something as trivial as a little heat and stench ruin his good time. Even without the penguin waiters and rockstar chefs, he was determined to make the most of the evening. Shuffling quietly through the empty aisles, Mikey ducked into a table sat in a secluded corner, far away from the windows and the stunning view of a dirty river and ruined city. Blown lights hung from the ceiling, strings of dark fairy lights looping from each mahogany rafter. Under the layer of dust, the floorboards felt smooth and luscious against his bare feet. Even the tables, the ones still standing, had an air of grandeur. The River Café was not untouched by the end of the world but had rather rolled with it. The disheveled bar top seemed purposeful, the ripped tablecloths artfully distressed, and the lights down to grant ambience. Apocalypse Chic.

A plush chair scraped ragged screeches when Mikey pulled it out. He froze, quickly glancing around, listening for movement. A bird flew in through a broken window, picked at a piece of garbage, then flew away in disgust. No other activity stirred the café, so he decided it was safe enough and sat, scooting his chair up to the table’s edge. He’d brought a little bit of food and he scattered it meagerly over the dusty gray tablecloth. Lastly, he pulled his rotting arm out of his loose belt and thumped it down on the table across from him. Fluid oozed from the bloated appendage, staining the already filthy tablecloth with unmentionables. It sat fat and juicy across the way, but Mikey went about his business as thought it was completely normal to have dinner with one’s severed arm.

It seemed impolite to wear weapons at the table, but it was a necessity. He just smiled sheepishly into the darkness and shrugged.

“Sorry, D,” he murmured, “no chocolate bridge for us.” He’d seen it in pictures back when the internet was a thing, salivated over it, wished he could taste it. But with no chef, there was no chocolate bridge.

“Hey, Donnie, you think maybe someone left one in the walk-in? Should I go check?”

Don, of course, said nothing, for he was not really there. Mikey knew he wasn’t there. Pretending just felt nice sometimes. “Okay, okay,” Mikey conceded. “I’ll stay. Stop beggin’, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Reaching across the table, he intertwined his fingers with the arm and tried to smile. Tried to see Don’s face across from him, tried to feel something other than slime and bone in his hand.

There was nothing, just heat and stench and solitude.

Sighing, Mikey flopped back in his chair and ran his hand over his head. “C’mon, Donnie,” he whined, “work with me here. Gimmie a hand.”

A sardonic grin split the turtle’s beak as he appreciated his own morbid joke. Reaching out once more, he held the hand across from him.

“We...” Pause. No, that wasn’t right. There was no ‘we’ anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.

“ _I_ miss you,” Michelangelo admitted, running his thumb over the exposed metacarpals. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Donnie.”


	14. I’m Your Stupid Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Comic by Shesu94](https://deviantart.com/shesu94)

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
